


Sometimes I think that it's better to never ask why

by EzzyAlpha



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Trust, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyAlpha/pseuds/EzzyAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose stashes things away, in the dark, under wraps and chained up, behind locked doors in secret passageways.</p><p>[100 Themes Challenge: 67 - Boundaries]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes I think that it's better to never ask why

Rose stashes things away, in the dark, under wraps and chained up, behind locked doors in secret passageways.

Not literally, of course. Roxy knows the house like the back of her hand, even though it’s not her house (nor her time), but she knows every nook and cranny, and she knows Rose enough to know where she would go to hide something, because she’s 20 years younger and still works the same way. There are no figurative skeletons in literal closets.

But she has things hidden away. Things about the Furthest Ring, things about dying next to her brother and things about dark magic that gnaws away at her soul.

Sometimes she jokes about not having a soul anymore. Roxy doesn’t find those jokes very funny.

Roxy wants to ask her about those things Rose doesn’t trust her enough to tell but she knows she can’t, because that would be stepping over the invisible lines that divide their relationship. It reminds Roxy of old sitcoms and cartoons, where the characters would divide the house with thick white lines.

This is my side, that is yours. Stay on your side and I will stay in mine.

Except Roxy invites Rose to her side, let’s her lounge around, downright tugs on her sleeves to pull her over.

Rose resisted at first, but now it is as if she is at home in Roxy’s side. Meanwhile, Roxy has no idea what is going on in her head, or her heart, not even her lungs, although if the pack of Pall Malls in the second drawer of her desk is anything to go by, her lungs are probably not that great either.

But Roxy respects the lines.

So, when Rose disappears for three days, mid-winter, and calls from Boston at 3 am, Roxy doesn’t ask questions. She gets in her Impala and, by the time she arrives, it is almost 7.

Rose gets in the car, rubbing her gloved hands together, some deep scratches on her face and missing a few inches of hair on the right side. Roxy looks her over, insuring she’s not dead, or possessed.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she says, looking straight ahead at the road, hands grasping the wheel with such force you’d think it would break “what the fuck were you doing in Boston. Without telling anyone, even? I mean, I’m glad you’re not lying in a hole in the middle of the Adirondacks but-“

“I was meeting up with Dave.” She says, and smiles that little smile. Roxy knows that smile well. It’s not a lie, it’s keeping the truth away, just within her reach but never close enough to catch.

“That just raises more questions.” Says Roxy. She doesn’t relax her grip on the wheel, nor does she lean back on the seat. It isn’t until Rose’s hand, now ungloved, finds her way to hers, than she relaxes, letting go and melting into the seat. Were Roxy a braver woman, she would want to melt into Rose, but she’s not.

She’s a coward.

“I’m sorry.” Says Rose, not smiling. Roxy knows that expression as well. That’s truth. The full truth. It is then, that Roxy breaks, and it’s no longer about being brave, it’s about the final drop that breaks the water tension and makes the cup run over.

“If you’re so fucking sorry then why won’t you just tell me everything, goddammit.”

Rose’s expression is stony. She’s 20 years younger and she’s not the same person, Roxy knows this, but sometimes it’s hard to remember, because Rose becomes the same untouchable marble statue her mother was. She looks away and Roxy feels like her heart has been ripped out. She looks straight ahead, unsure of where to go from here.

“I can’t.”

Roxy looks back at Rose, confusing spreading through her face, slowly.

“What do you mean, you can’t.”

“Well, for starters, you would be very disappointed in me.” She says, and looks away.

Roxy stops for a second, looking her over. A fleeting thought about taking a pair of scissors to her hair once they get home, just so she doesn’t look that ridiculous, comes to mind.

Right. Home.

She turns the key and starts driving away. It’s an almost 5 hour trip and she’s functioning on 3 hours of sleep, but it needs to be made.

Rose is quiet for most of the first hour of the trip. Roxy doesn’t want to step over lines.

“Secondly.” Rose says at last “It would take a long time to explain and probably not explain much at all.”

Roxy stares straight ahead. The road is dark.

“Roxy?”

“I heard you.”

Rose visibly sinks in her seat, hands on her lap, trying to be more expressive for Roxy’s sake. For as much as she guarded herself, sometimes she wanted Roxy to know everything.

“I constantly feel like I’m stepping on eggshells around you, trying not to prod you too much.” Mutters Roxy “Because if I do, you completely close off and I’m left trying to pick up the pieces and put them back together, Except the pieces don’t fucking fit because there’s like ten fucking vases in here, and some are the same color.”

She makes an angry half growl noise. Rose stares at her, quietly, eyebrows lowered and eyes half closed.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“If you know and if you’re so fucking sorry, why don’t you do something about it.”

“I don’t know.”

Roxy frowns deeply, attempting to keep looking straight ahead.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

Rose sighs.

Another hour passed in dead silence. By now they were halfway home.

“I don’t want to keep secrets from you, but sometimes I simply am unable to fathom my thoughts onto words.” Rose says, turned in her seat, looking towards the window. Roxy allows herself to look her over for a second, before she notices.

“Why can’t you just tell me where you are going before you go missing for days.”

“I don’t know.”

“Why do you lock yourself in your room, refusing to speak to me for days?”

“I…Don’t know.”

“Why-“

“I don’t know, Roxy. I would apologize, but it’s obvious that does nothing anymore.”

Rose turns back to look at Roxy, and Roxy refuses to look her in the eyes.

“I want to be better.” Rose says, her hand resting on Roxy’s thigh. Roxy swats her away and she sighs.

“But I don’t know how.”

There is a long pause, and Rose begins to lose hope.

“Just talk to me.” Mutter Roxy at last “Just fucking talk to me. That’s all I ask.”

“And what am I supposed to say, that would not push you off?”

Rose pauses and bites her lip.

“I love you.”

Roxy’s eyelids flutter and she grips the steering wheel with too much force.

“I love you too.”

“I love you, Roxy. And I don’t say it enough.”

Roxy closes her eyes for the briefest moment and sighs.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“What do you want me to say, Rose? I love you, but you are driving me insane, you are making me sick with worry. Sometimes, I wake up in bed alone, and I wonder if you are dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were.”

At the lack of response, Roxy looks over to Rose. She’s shoulders slack and mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed, little creases in her brow like she gets when she’s concentrated, and Roxy usually loves those, but the situation is too grim right now.

Roxy looks back at the road. It’s icy and she doesn’t want to make this day any worst. Rose just slumps over.

“What do you want from me, Roxy. I can’t be better than this. I’ve tried.”

“What were you doing with Dave. If you were with Dave.”

“Dark rituals. Exactly the type of thing I’m not supposed to do. The dark stuff.”

Roxy opens her mouth for a split second before clenching her teeth. She scowls.

“Are you trying to bring her back?”

“What? Who?”

Rose’s eyebrows shoot up in understanding.

“Mom? No. I promise.”

She closes her eyes, leaning against the seat.

“If anything of the sort was possible, you would be the first to know. And anyway…”

She pauses.

“I have you, okay? Not to imply you are the same person, which you are not. But, I have you. I’m not alone, emotionally and physically. And for that, I am stronger.”

Roxy relaxes slightly, releases her death like vice on the wheel.

“You mean that?”

“Yes. You make me stronger, Roxy.”

“Why.” She asks, but it sounds more like a statement, monotone.

“Because you’re brave.”

Roxy scoffs.

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re brave enough to put up with me. Were I you, I would have been gone long ago.”

Roxy doesn’t know what to feel anymore.

“Then, what? What could be worth sacrificing yourself.”

Rose’s eyes are closed. She looks peaceful. Almost dead, really.

“The light, I guess. I miss it. Dave misses time.”

Roxy feels as if her breathing has stopped.

“Oh.”

There is a pause, that extends itself. They’re almost home. Maybe another hour.

“Shit, is Dave okay?”

Rose giggles lightly.

“Dave is fine.”

Roxy has long since stopped trying to make sense of the situation and she doesn’t want to force Rose to talk. But, somehow, it’s different now. It’s not perfect, but it’s different.

Roxy feels a lot less alone.

It takes a while to get to their house. Roxy makes a mental note to shovel the driveway when she wakes up. Speaking of waking up, Rose has been asleep for a while. Roxy watches her chest rising and lowering steadily. A lot of things are going through her mind, far too many even.

She gets out of the Impala, closing the door behind her gently, and walks over to the passenger’s side.

It takes some struggling (Rose isn’t exactly light and Roxy is out of shape) but eventually Roxy manages to carry Rose to Roxy’s room, the room they usually share, placing her gently on Roxy’s side of the bed, because she hadn’t bothered to make it before getting out of the house.  Not that they usually make the bed. Roxy lies down next to her, watching her sleeping peacefully, considering how much she needs a haircut now, and thinking about their little road trip.

Rose stashes things away, in the dark, under wraps and chained up, behind locked doors in secret passageways.  Things about the Furthest Ring, things about dying next to her brother and things about dark magic that gnaws away at her soul. Roxy doesn’t understand, no matter how much she tries, why Rose simply won’t talk to her. But she knows it’s hard for her to do so, so she forgives her, because she loves her. And maybe someday, Rose will finally let her in on all her dark, deep, chained up secrets.

So, for now, Roxy holds her close, feeling her steady breathing, and she falls asleep, because she went to bed at midnight and had to get up at 3 am, and now it’s almost 1 pm. She should be mad, but she’s not, because she feels like she’s just a little closer to understanding her beloved better.

And that’s all she really wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I was drunk for half of writing this.


End file.
